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by daleksanddetectives
Summary: When John convinced Sherlock to upload a video of himself playing the violin to the internet, they had no idea how popular it would get. [Teenlock AU & established relationship]
1. Chapter 1

Sherlock shuts his laptop with a groan, folding his arms on the lid and burying his face in his jumper.

"Jooohn."

His voice is muffled by the fabric, but the boy lying on the bed reading looks up.

"Yes?"

"My blood splatter and ash videos haven't been getting any views."

"Just keep making them. You'll get noticed soon enough. They're interesting and if you're into forensics they're really helpful," John shrugs, "and you have a nice voice now it's finished breaking."

"You're biased. You just like my voice."

"Problem?" John smirks.

"Mm," Sherlock rolls his eyes. He stands and picks up the violin he'd left at John's feet. He swipes the bow across the strings, "name a song."

"What's that one you did the other day? The Elvis one?"

Sherlock thinks for a moment before launching himself into the song. John smiles and rests his face in a cupped palm, watching Sherlock sway gently with the music. When the song ends, Sherlock stands in the middle of him room pouting and looking a bit lost.

"Come here," John rolls onto his side and motions for Sherlock to join him on the bed. Sherlock stretches out on his back beside his boyfriend, inviting him to rest his head on his shoulder.

"You should record some of the songs you play on your violin," John says, snuggling into Sherlock's side and gently pulling his curls, "record them and stick them online. People like classical covers of stuff."

Sherlock raises an eyebrow, "record with what? I used the camera on my laptop for my other videos and the sound quality is terrible. The only other thing I have is my phone, and that's equally as bad."

Propping his chin on Sherlock's chest, John smiles gently, "do one or two and see how it goes, you never know. Popularity on the internet can be pretty random."

Sherlock frowns, "the only people I play for are myself, you, and occasionally my parents. Even Mycroft doesn't want to hear me. I doubt the rest of the world would want to hear my screeching."

"I'm not going to force you, but you play beautifully and you somehow suit the violin. You complement each other."

"I'll think about it."

John shuffles up and presses a gentle kiss against Sherlock's lips, "good. Now come on, I need help with my biology homework and you promised to read it through for me."

Sherlock sighs but takes the papers that are handed to him.

* * *

A few days later, Sherlock leans back in his desk chair, "John? Are you still awake?"

John had gone home with Sherlock to spend Friday evening together, and Sherlock had insisted that John stay over for the weekend. The boy in question sleepily sits up and shuffles over, wearing the duvet like a cape, "what's up?"

"I did what you told me to."

John blinks slowly.

"Sherlock, I tell you to do a lot of things and most of them I doubt you even listen to," he rubs his eyes, "what have you done and is it legal?"

Rolling his eyes Sherlock clicks a few things on his laptop and opens a video, "I recorded myself playing a song."

He presses play and they stay silent for the two and a half minutes it runs. Sherlock watches John carefully for his reaction.

"The music sounds great but, did you film this in your pyjamas?" Sherlock nods, "you should have worn one of your nice shirts. It's a little dark too; you could do with better lighting. Besides that though, it sounds great. I don't know what you meant when you said the sound quality is bad."

"I know, I used Mycroft's camera. He forgot it when he left last and I found it in his room," Sherlock says, steepling his fingers, "this was a test run. You know what people want to see, I wanted to ask for your advice."

John smiles and squeezes Sherlock's shoulder.

"Come on, it's past midnight. Let's go to sleep and we can do this properly in the morning, when there's decent lighting, yeah? We'll do your hair and you can wear that posh shirt and make a really good video."

Sherlock sighs, trying to hide his smile, and shuts the laptop. He allows John to pull him back to the bed and position him at his back, pulling Sherlock's arm over his own waist and snuggling in against him. John drops off quickly. He's breathing heavily within minutes while Sherlock closes his eyes and taps out rhythms on John's stomach. He runs through all the songs he knows John enjoys and thinks about the videos he could make for them. With John's help, of course.

This YouTube idea was starting to sound not too bad at all.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock woke the next morning to John puttering about his room in his pyjamas and with Sherlock's dressing gown thrown over his shoulders. He smiles when he hears Sherlock snuffle.

"Y'know," he says, "you should probably considering tidying in here once in a while. It's a tip."

Sherlock presses his nose into the pillow, "it's clean sometimes."

"I spend half my time here, it's really not."

"I did tidy it the other day," he hums, "then I couldn't find my chemistry book."

"So you tore the place apart?"

Sherlock would swear he could almost hear John's exasperated eye roll. He winces when the duvet is torn off him and John cheerily tells him to get up.

With a groan, he does and drapes himself over John.

"Go make yourself useful and make breakfast or get dressed."

Sherlock grunts and shuffles into the bathroom.

Half an hour later he emerges with his damp curls stuck to his forehead and wearing the shirt he knows John likes on him. He finds John still in his pyjamas, fiddling with the camera with a bacon and egg sandwich waiting for him on the desk.

"I cleared a space for you," John points at a stool sat against the wall, "and the camera looks pretty easy to use, so whenever you're ready we can start."

Sherlock wolfs down the sandwich quickly and lets John comb his hair. His mum comes into the room at one point with some laundry and asks what they're up to so early on a Saturday morning. John grins at her.

"Making your son an internet sensation."

Sherlock snorts at him, "unlikely. You're doing this because you like me in shirts with my hair done."

"That too," John smirks, "and if I didn't, you wouldn't get dressed. Ever. Mrs Holmes, what did you do before he met me?"

Sherlock's mum laughs and leaves Sherlock's washing on the end of the bed, "I gave up trying to get him dressed after he decided he could dress himself. Have fun and let me know when you're ready for lunch."

Once John is satisfied with Sherlock's hair he presses a kiss to his curls and goes to find his own clothes. He's quick about it and when he returns Sherlock has his violin resting on his lap. He plucks gently at the strings and turns the pegs, frowning until he's satisfied with the sound.

"Sorted?"

Sherlock hums.

"Remember, it doesn't have to be perfect first time," John reassures, looking into the back of the camera and straightening the framing.

In reply he gets a sour look and an angry sounding sweep of the bow across the strings, "I know that, John."

John rolls his eyes, "ready when you are. Do you want a practise run?"

"I'll be fine."

"Righto."

Sherlock perches on the stool and tucks his violin under his chin. John mouths a countdown from three at him and gently presses record.

No sooner after Sherlock has lowered the violin, he has an armful of John with insistent lips moving against his own.

Sherlock looks up with a dazed smile when they break for breath, "what was that for?"

"It's unfair how gorgeous you look when you're playing. Your face is so serene and your tiny movements," he makes a frustrated noise, "this video is going to look brilliant."

Sherlock cocks an eyebrow, "we'll see about that."

He shoves John off his lap and sets his instrument in its case. John picks up the camera and sits back on Sherlock's knee. He fiddles with it for a few seconds and then the video is playing back for them, the music filling the room.

"See?" John grins, "brilliant."

Sherlock hums, "that's on a tiny screen and a tinny speaker. Get it on the laptop and we'll see how brilliant it is then."

John raises an eyebrow but goes to boot up the laptop anyway. He plugs the camera into it and clicks open the video. It loads and plays automatically, sounding just as impressive as it had live.

"Of course you would get it perfect first go," John mutters.

Sherlock rolls his eyes, "I've been playing that song for years. It's easy now. Mummy has me play it every Christmas when we have family over, much to their annoyance."

"Start thinking about others you want to do. I know if I leave you to your own devices after this you'll never get another one done."

Sherlock frowns but accepts it.

"That looks and sounds alright then," John hums, flicking to the end of the video, "happy with it?"

"You can see half of my periodic table on the left."

John shrugs, "that's fine, shows a little more about you. People are nosy, they'll like that."

He fiddles around with the video software before opening the internet browser and clicking YouTube. He goes straight to the upload button.

"Did you want to start a new channel or just stick it on your old one?"

"I like the name of the one I have, put it on there."

John smiles as he clicks upload, "I can't believe you actually got your name as your username without having to add a string of numbers."

"Sometimes having an unusual name has its perks," he smirks.

"What do you want to call it?"

Sherlock blinks, "the name of the song might be helpful."

John nudges his boyfriend's ribs with his elbow, "don't be a berk. What else do you want to put? I've tagged it and titled it, description?"

"Copy and paste the title. There isn't much to say about it."

John does as he's told and leans back and smiles, "would you like to do the honours?"

Leaning over John's shoulders, Sherlock takes the mouse and clicks the save button.

"Well, that's that," John says, tilting his head back, "now we wait and see what happens."

Sherlock sighs, "you know I hate waiting."

"I can distract you; I'm an expert in that now. I'll find that video of the cat falling off the shelf," John says, already typing in the search bar.

"Oh God, not that again."


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock and John spend the rest of the weekend together, promising each other that they wouldn't look at the views on the video until Monday.

"Pinky swear you won't sneak a peek," John had said, holding Sherlock's littlest finger with his own.

Sherlock had raised his eyebrows, "really, John? Pinky swearing? We're sixteen, not six."

"Don't care and too late, you already shook my hand. No peeking."

Rolling his eyes, Sherlock pulls on John's hand, "fine."

John gave Sherlock a parting kiss on the cheek on the Sunday night with the promise of meeting up before their first lessons the next day.

When they arrived separately to sixth form on the morning Sherlock quickly sought out John, finding him talking to one of his rugby friends while tying up their bikes in the bike shed. He surprises the shorter boy by wrapping his arms around his waist. John startles slightly before putting his hands over Sherlock's and starts bringing his conversation to a close.

"I'll see you in Biology, Mike."

Mike laughs, "see you, and watch you don't trip with that attached to your back."

Sherlock pouts and lets John unwrap his arms to take his hand and start to pull him away.

"I don't understand why he needs two chains. Surely one's strong enough?" Sherlock says, glancing back, "yours is fine with one."

John shrugs, "someone stole his bike when he was in secondary school and he doesn't want it to happen again. Sensible idea if you ask me." He gives Sherlock's hand a gentle tug, "come on, I didn't have a chance for breakfast this morning and I'm guessing you didn't bother with it either. Hopefully the canteen will have some decent fruit left."

In reply, Sherlock's stomach gives a loud rumble, "I'm not _that_ hungry, I was hoping that we could look at the video before first lesson."

"Your stomach says otherwise," John says, "lunchtime, yeah?"

"Fine, but don't expect me to be paying much attention in my lessons," Sherlock grumbles, allowing himself to be pulled into the building.

: :

As soon as his teacher releases him for lunch, Sherlock goes to find John in a classroom with his friends from the rugby team. A few of them smile at him as he makes a beeline for John, perched on the edge of a table and eating a sandwich.

Without breaking his conversation, John picks up the other half of his sandwich and shoves it in Sherlock's mouth. He feels Sherlock glaring at the back of his head.

"Eat that and some crisps then we'll go. You need to eat."

Sherlock begins to chew and sits quietly beside John, brushing their shoulders against each other and once John is satisfied they've both eaten enough Sherlock starts packing their things away and stands to take John's hand.

"Where are you off, Watson?" Bill Murray, one of John's closer friends, asks when Sherlock starts herding John out, "not going to snog him behind the labs again, are you?"

"We've been working on a secret project," John smiles and nudges Sherlock when he blushes, "couldn't possibly tell you what it is yet."

Bill rolls his eyes, "don't forget my socks tomorrow. I only have one other pair and they're already packed for the big game next weekend."

"Sherlock file that in your head and remind me later."

Sherlock gives John a withering look but puts it away in his mind nonetheless before going back to sheparding John out the room.

John twines his fingers with Sherlock's as they make their way down the halls, dodging around other students sat against the walls. They sign in to the library and John manages to grab a free computer. He presses the on button while Sherlock pulls a chair over.

John puts his code when prompted and rests a hand on Sherlock's bobbing knee.

"Calm down. Why are you so nervous?"

Sherlock swivels his chair and mumbles, "you know why."

With a shake of his head, John turns back to the computer to open the internet and clicks around until he has Sherlock's account open.

"Are you ready?"

Sherlock nods quickly.

"Three hundred and fifty views exactly."

"Is that good?"

"That's… really good. Brilliant, actually, for your first video. How many views did you say the others got?"

"The study of ash got six and blood splatter analysis got ten."

"Bloody hell," John grins, "see, I told you not to worry," he leans over to hug Sherlock, "do you want to read the comments now or wait until we get to a laptop?"

Sherlock's eyes widen, "people have commented?"

"Yep. We can read them now or you can come home with me and check them then. Harry is at her friend's tonight so she won't be under our feet."

"I'm almost… afraid of what people are going to say," Sherlock mumbles, swinging his chair side to side, "people can be cruel on the internet when they've got a username to hide behind. They'll see everything I do wrong and make a big deal of it."

John takes Sherlock's hand and rubs his thumb over the knuckles.

"You need to stop doubting yourself so much, you're brilliant at this."

"It's the only thing that I've had to work for," Sherlock mumbles, "everything else comes so easy to me and playing the violin is something I've practised and worked towards being good at."

John twines their fingers together and rests them on Sherlock's knee, "and we're proud of you, Sherlock. I know your mind goes at however many miles an hour and you find it difficult to concentrate sometimes. Not only do you play beautifully, it helps you sort out whatever's going on in your head. As long as you feel comfortable sharing what you play, people will want to hear," he tilts his head towards the screen, "and I'm here for help if you need me."

"Thank you," Sherlock smiles softly.

John puts his hands on Sherlock's shoulders to pull him into a gentle kiss. Sherlock parts his lips slightly to allow John access to his mouth as he leans into him.

"Watson," the librarian's stern voice startles John backwards, "take it outside if you're done with the computers."

"Yes ma'am."

Sherlock puts his hand over his mouth to cover his laugh.


	4. Chapter 4

When Sherlock's final lesson of the day finishes he's one of the first out of the classroom to collect his things from his locker and leave to perch on the outside wall of the school building. He picks at the seams on his bag and tries to ignore the people around him.

John slowly wheels his bike up beside Sherlock.

"Fancy a croggy?" He grins.

Sherlock turns to give him an unimpressed look, "after what happened last time? I don't think so. I'll walk."

John keeps his feet on the floor and walks his bike beside Sherlock. Their walk home passes relatively quietly and John motions for Sherlock to follow him into the back garden. Propping his bike against the house, John unlocks the back door and smiles when he hears a bark and a golden retriever pads around the corner.

He drops to his knees and ruffles the dog's ears, "hey Gladstone," he says in a high voice, "you in by yourself?"

Gladstone spots Sherlock by the door and launches himself towards him, jumping up and planting his paws on Sherlock's shoulders. He pushes the dog down before crouching and petting his head.

"Fickle dog," John mutters, standing and brushing off his knees, "we'll have to walk him in a bit but we can go look at the video first."

Sherlock gives Gladstone a last scratch behind the ear and straightens.

"Head on up, I'll make some drinks," John pats Sherlock's bum, "I changed the password on my laptop, see if you can crack it again."

He turns to get down their mugs and switch on the kettle. When he goes to follow Sherlock, two mugs of tea in hand, he finds him sat back against the headboard of his bed, legs crossed at the ankles, and John's laptop sat on his thighs. He has to step over Gladstone, who had made himself comfortable curled up at the door.

"Honestly, John, your password was ridiculously easy even for you."

John rolls his eyes and picks the laptop up so he can plonk himself between Sherlock's legs. Sherlock wraps his arms around John's waist and pulls him back to rest against his chest.

"Were you looking at my essays?"

"Yep. Your spelling is atrocious, even with spell check."

John nudges Sherlock's ribs, "like you can talk."

"At least I proof read."

John tuts and opens his internet browser as Sherlock wraps his arms around John's waist and rests his chin on his shoulder. He brings up the video again and scrolls down to the comments.

"All right then," John says as he scrolls, "these are all really sweet. Here, look."

"Catluver33?" Sherlock frowns.

John rolls his eyes and reads the comment out loud, "'wow you're a very beautiful violin player' and then lots of exclamation marks and some sort of… emoticon? It's kind of smiling and throwing something sparkly, I'm not quite sure."

He feels Sherlock sneer against his neck and laughs, "it's sweet. This is a nice one too, from Silver_Fox, 'This sounds amazing, hope to hear more!'. There's a few others asking for more too."

"I might have to think about doing another one then," Sherlock says.

John giggles quietly and clicks through to the analytics page and clicks through to the main page, letting Sherlock's turn his intense gaze fall on the graphs. Once he makes a satisfied noise, John pushes the laptop down to the bottom of the bed and turns in Sherlock's arms.

"Gladstone needs a walk and his dinner. We can pick up takeaway on the way if you want?"

Gladstone's ears twitch at the mention of his name and he stretches to pad over to the side of the bed. He rests his head on the duvet and whines quietly.

"Mm, that would be nice," Sherlock says, leaning to pet the dog's head.

John presses a kiss to Sherlock's lips before climbing off the bed.

"When we get back we can talk about what you want to do for your next video?" John asks hopefully.

Sherlock smiles, "definitely."


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock's second and third videos went down just as well as the first.

At the end of the fourth John had popped in beside him and perched on the edge of the seat, wrapping his arm around Sherlock's waist when he wobbled.

"Don't forget, if you liked our previous videos and want to see more, to like, comment, subscribe and all that stuff!" He'd grinned at the camera.

This had caused an influx of comments asking 'who's that?' and 'he's cute, what's his name?'.

John flushed bright red when they had read the comments on that video and they came to an agreement to leave his identity a mystery for the time being.

: :

"We should do some Christmas themed songs," Sherlock announces in early December while they sit in the college common room.

John chews his sandwich thoughtfully, "yeah, that would be good. Only if you aren't sick of playing them already."

Sherlock shuts his folder and leans back with a hum, steepling his fingers under his chin. Since his first video in October had gone down well, he and John had made several more with popular songs they'd heard on the radio and John reckoned would go down well with Sherlock's new fans.

"I've been posting new videos almost every two weeks, so I could get at least two or three songs done and uploaded by Christmas. Maybe more."

John slides Sherlock his lunchbox in an attempt to make him eat, "sure thing. You're the talent so pick 'em and start practising. You want to wear a Santa hat or reindeer antlers?"

The face Sherlock pulls has John laughing and almost inhaling his sandwich.

"Please wear antlers," John giggles in between coughs, "I think we have a light up nose that you could wear."

Sherlock snatches an apple out of John's lunchbox.

"Absolutely not," he growls.

"For me?" John bats his eyelashes.

"Not even for you," Sherlock takes a defiant bite out of the apple and flashes John a fake grin before chewing. He pauses and stares at the apple, "why did you put this in your lunch? You don't like the red ones."

John raises an eyebrow, "because you complain when I bring Granny Smiths or pears."

"What would I do without you, John," Sherlock says sarcastically, taking another bite.

"Mm, what would you do without me?" John mumbles, "get to extreme levels of boredom most likely."

Sherlock smiles sarcastically.

Rolling his eyes, John starts putting his things in his satchel, "anyway, I have an essay that needs typed up for fifth lesson, so I'd better be off."

Sherlock gives him a disbelieving look.

"Fine, I have an essay that needs written for my fifth lesson." John stands and scoops his folders up, "see you after, yeah? And make sure you finish that apple and think about some songs."

Sherlock copies John's eye roll but leans forward and puckers his lips anyway. John smiles and gives him a peck before giving a little wave and leaving the busy common room.

Obediently taking another bite out of his apple, Sherlock pulls out his phone and starts googling popular Christmas songs.

: :

The rest of their school day plods along at what feels like a snail's pace for Sherlock. He has his phone confiscated during his fourth hour French class for texting John and laughing at a photo John had sent back. He spends the rest of the lesson parroting back phrases to his teacher in hope of buttering her up enough to get it back.

He has no such luck and ends up spending most of his psychology lesson quietly tapping out songs on the desk with his fingers. He manages to do some work but is relieved when the class is finally dismissed. He hurries back to the languages classroom and after picking up his phone from his still annoyed French teacher. Phone in hand, Sherlock finds John stowing his rugby kit in his locker. He wraps his arms around John's waist and rests his chin on the top of John's head.

"Can we go home now?"

"In a minute, I need to find my physics textbook. It's in here somewhere and you're not making it easier being latched onto my back."

Sherlock ignores him and gives John's waist a little squeeze.

"Not in the hallways, Watson," a passing voice calls.

John flips his middle finger at his friend Bill, who has managed to scurry most of the way down the corridor, giggling all the way. He sighs and shuts the locker door.

"I must have left it in yours."

Finally letting go of John, the pair walk round to the next corridor where Sherlock opens his locker. John finds his physics book along with a jumper he'd let Sherlock borrow a few months ago and a pair of his rugby socks. Sherlock tries to look innocent when John shakes his head and pulls the socks out with his book.

"You can keep the jumper but I'm going to need these back for a wash before my practices this week."

Sherlock pouts but lets John shove his things into his satchel before taking his hand and pulling him towards the front of the school. Most of the other students have cleared out by the time they emerge from the main college building.

"So," John says, gently swinging their joint hands as they start the walk to Sherlock's house, "do you fancy trying to get a video done tonight?"

Sherlock makes a non-committal noise which John takes as 'in my mind palace, do not disturb'. Rolling his eyes, John remains quiet for the remainder of their short walk home. By the time they arrive, Sherlock has re-emerged from his mind and they give an absent greeting to Sherlock's mum, who is in the kitchen already starting to make dinner, their Irish setter snuffling around her feet for anything she might have dropped.

After trudging up the stairs, John dumps his bag by the bedroom door and settles on Sherlock's bed.

"So, when's Mycroft coming home?"

Sherlock groans and flops spread out on his back beside John, "he's on the train home now to stay for a week, and then he's coming back again on the twenty third for Christmas and New Year. Mummy is going to pick him up after tea." He sighs, "I've been enjoying life as an only child."

John snorts, "lucky you."

"He's getting the train to the station in town, and dad is at work until late, so we'll have the house to ourselves most of the night."

"Are you hinting at what I think you are?" John smirks, pushing Sherlock's shirt up to reveal his stomach and trailing his fingers across the exposed skin.

"Maybe," Sherlock hums quietly, "my dad warned me about boys like you."

"Boys like me," John snorts, pulling his hand back, "you're the one who should come with a warning label." He squeezes Sherlock's thigh, "come on, we've got work to do. I liked the songs you mentioned in your text."

Sherlock groans again and rolls onto his stomach, burying his face between John's leg and the duvet.

"Yes, I'm absolutely horrible for making you look up songs," he ruffles Sherlock's hair, "anyway, I thought the house was going to be empty later," John says with a twinkle in his eye, "so if we get important stuff done now…"

He trails off as Sherlock springs off the bed to grab his laptop and violin case.


	6. Chapter 6

As Sherlock had said, Mycroft arrived and stayed just under a week. During this week he and Sherlock got into four spats, two of which John was present and able to break up, the other two involved one of them swinging a punch and both being banished to their rooms by their parents.

Mycroft went back to uni and returned again the day before Christmas Eve, much to Sherlock's dismay.

"I see you've been taking the internet by storm, brother dear," he says over breakfast on Christmas Eve.

Sherlock glowers over his toast, "been stalking me again, brother dear?"

His brother raises his eyebrows, "you realise your John sent me a friend request on Facebook and he posts about little else?"

The scowl deepens but Sherlock remains quiet.

"Are you seeing him today?"

Sherlock shakes his head, "he's visiting his grandparents. I saw him yesterday when we did our last Christmas video, and I'm going over on Boxing Day. He did say he'd ring me tomorrow though." He pauses for a moment, "what about you, anyway?"

"What about _me_?"

"You're obviously seeing someone."

Mycroft snorts, "and what gives you that idea?"

"You seem… happier," Sherlock leans on his elbows, "and you've smiled almost every time you've picked up your phone to answer a text since you got home."

"Good deduction, no matter how wrong it is," Mycroft stands to take his plate and mug to the sink, "I'm not seeing anyone and if I was I wouldn't be telling my tell-tale of a little brother."

Sherlock narrows his eyes, "I'll work it out sooner or later."

"No, you won't, because there's nothing to work out," Mycroft says a little too quickly. He scruffs up Sherlock's hair and gets an annoyed _oi_ as he sweeps past and out of the kitchen.

: :

The countdown to New Year on the TV finishes and Big Ben chimes out midnight.

"Happy New Year, Sherlock," John smiles and tilts his face up to Sherlock's, pressing their lips together in a soft kiss. They hear a gagging noise from across the room, so Sherlock raises one hand and flips his middle finger at his brother.

Their dad tuts, "this year can the two of you at least try to be nice to each other?"

"Not a chance," Mycroft snorts.

"The only thing we'll agree on this year, I'm certain," Sherlock adds, nuzzling his nose against John's cheek.

John rolls his eyes and untangles himself from Sherlock's arms. He picks up his beer can and downs the remaining liquid before grabbing Sherlock's hand and tugging him out of the chair. Sherlock sighs and moves so that John can sit back down before reaching around the back of the armchair to pull out his violin case.

He rests it on the arm of the chair and lets John hold it steady as he takes the instrument out and carefully checks the pegs. Once satisfied he tucks it under his chin and steps in front of the coffee table.

Mrs Holmes sits forward in her seat and smiles encouragingly. He shuts his eyes and takes a breath before softly starting to play _Auld Lang Syne_ in time with the crowds of people singing on the television.

When he draws out the last note, Sherlock reopens his eyes to his parents grinning at him and clapping. Mycroft surprisingly joins in, giving Sherlock a look he only doles out when he's really impressed by something.

Sherlock glances over to John.

"Can we go now?" He mouths at his boyfriend.

John nods and opens the case on his lap so Sherlock can safely tuck his violin away. He allows Sherlock pull him up and out of the chair and pause to let Sherlock's mum kiss her son's cheek before they head up the stairs to Sherlock's bedroom.

Half an hour after they've tucked themselves into Sherlock's bed and John has rolled over and started to snore, there's a quiet knock on the door. Sherlock glances up from his laptop.

"Come in."

It's his mum and she pokes her head around the door with a soft smile on her face.

"Thank you for playing tonight, Sherlock. It was really lovely."

"You're welcome, Mummy. It was John's idea though, he thought you might enjoy it. I'm playing again for his family after lunch tomorrow."

His mum taps her nails against the wood of the door, "you've done really well for yourself recently Sherlock. We're all very proud of you. Even Mycroft, though he doesn't show it much."

Sherlock smiles at her, "thank you. Goodnight."

"Night."

The door clicks shut and Sherlock closes his laptop. He gently rests it against the bedside table before switching off the lamp and snuggling under the duvet, curling against John.

: :

Not a week later is Sherlock's birthday and after the pair have arrived at Sherlock's after school, John shyly hands over a box wrapped in blue paper, "happy birthday."

Taking the box, Sherlock mumbles a quiet thanks and starts picking at the sellotape. He opens the end of the wrapping and pulls out a box holding a camera and proclaiming lists of features.

John smiles, "your videos are doing well and Mycroft probably wants his back now. It's a better one too, records in HD and other stuff I don't understand but sounds important. The bloke in Currys said it was a good one."

John is battered around the head with the box as Sherlock throws his arms around John's shoulders in a tight hug.

"Thank you," he whispers.

John turns his head to kiss the pale neck pressed against him and rubs his hands up and down Sherlock's back, "you're welcome. You've found something you enjoy; I want to help you with it. That was supposed to be your Christmas present but they sent the wrong one first and then the replacement didn't arrive in time."

Sherlock thinks back to what he'd been given for Christmas.

"You were going to give me a camera as well as all the chemistry books and equipment?"

"Well, you still have a few months to think about what you want to buy me for _my_ birthday," John grins and pats Sherlock's hip, "c'mon let's test this out."

He lets himself be eagerly pulled upstairs by Sherlock and perches beside his boyfriend on the bed, watching him open the box and take the camera out. The box is deposited on John's lap while Sherlock turns the camera over in his hands and switches it on. He turns it towards John and snaps a photo, looking at the small screen on the back with a satisfied hum.

John shakes his head and shuffles further into the middle of the bed and crosses his legs underneath himself. He starts looking through the camera's box and finding the papers that look important. The dip in the bed lifts and John hears Sherlock pick up his violin and thinks he's playing seemingly random notes until he recognises a tune. He looks up from the oddly thick instruction manual, "is that the _Pirates of the Caribbean_ theme?"

In reply he gets a sly smile as Sherlock sweeps away into the hall. John stretches to see him stop outside Mycroft's bedroom door. John giggles quietly when he hears Mycroft's snappy '_go away Sherlock'_. When Sherlock continues playing and doesn't move there's a loud sigh and the door opens revealing a scowling Mycroft.

"I realise that it's your birthday, brother dear, but is it necessary to play this close to my door while I'm studying?"

"Very necessary," Sherlock says, "wouldn't want you to miss out on the family dinner Mummy cooked for us. She said it'll be done soon."

Mycroft narrows his eyes and shuts the door with a mutter of, "I knew I should have gone back to uni earlier."

Sherlock turns and wanders back down the corridor with a pleased smirk, coming to the side of the bed where he puts the violin back in its case and flops bonelessly beside John.

John smiles, not looking up from the book, "so you _do_ pay attention to the films I make you watch?"

"Occasionally, yes."

John smiles and nudges him with his foot, "you only paid attention to that one because it had pirates."

"And?" Sherlock pouts.

John nudges him again, "your fascination with pirates is adorable. Let's try the video setting out before dinner's ready?"

Sherlock goes to sit on the stool that had made its home in the corner of his room since he'd started making videos. He tuts when John reaches over and ruffles his curls and straightens the collar of his shirt. John sticks his tongue out and goes to set the camera up.

"Ready?" He asks once it's arranged with Sherlock in the middle of the frame.

Sherlock nods.

"Okay, three, two…" John gives a thumbs up as he presses the record button on the tiny remote he had found in the box.

"Hello again," Sherlock smiles into the lens, "this is just a short update video; I won't be playing any music today." He scratches his cheek, "I've decided to do a Q&amp;A video one week after this is posted so please leave anything you'd like me to answer in the comments here and I'll have John pick out some good ones. He's good at that. And don't be boring."

Sherlock's eyes flick over to John and he gives him a tiny nod. John nods back and presses the button to stop recording.

"Short and sweet," John smiles, picking up the camera and taking the memory card out, "you're actually going to do a Q&amp;A then?"

Sherlock shrugs, "might make me look more human. As you said, people are nosy."

John makes an agreeable noise and sits on the bed again, pulling Sherlock's laptop onto his knee, "let's get this uploaded before dinner then."

He clicks to upload and slowly types out the title, '_Quick Update'_.

"What do you want in the description?"

Sherlock sits behind John and rests his chin on John's shoulder, "just ask for questions again. It's barely a minute long so it doesn't need much more than that."

"Sure thing."

When he's finished pecking out a short paragraph, John tilts the screen back so Sherlock can see what he'd written.

Sherlock snorts as he reads, "'_It's Sherlock's 17__th__ birthday today, so nice messages would be lovely and appreciated too! Smiley face John x'_. Really, John?"

"Yep," John grins as he clicks 'post', "you've been working your arse off and got yourself some amazing fans. I'm sure they'd like to know it's your birthday."

Sherlock rolls his eyes.

"Now, come on. Smells like dinner's ready and I can't wait to have some of that cake your dad baked."


End file.
